


Feathery Wings, Black and Blue

by LouPF



Category: Kaptein Sabeltann | Captain Sabertooth - Formoe
Genre: Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:48:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25579108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouPF/pseuds/LouPF
Summary: Sabeltann's marks are gorgeous. What a pity he seems to never find his match.And damn Pinky to hell and back for making him feel things.
Relationships: Kaptein Sabeltann/Pinky
Kudos: 1





	Feathery Wings, Black and Blue

Sabeltann’s marks are gorgeous. Black-blue-golden wings that curl up around his neck, their tips grazing by his cheekbones, accenting his already beautiful face. He’s well known for them - people respect both him and them, for it’s common knowledge that the more visibly marks are, the more strong the bearers (no matter if they only display where your soulmate will touch you most).

For a long while, Sabeltann waits for someone with similar marks to appear in his life - for someone to stride up to him at a harbour, proudly displaying the same wings as him someplace on the body.

They never come. The years go by, and no one shows up. Not even anyone trying to make fake ones.

Sabeltann decides, angry, that he surely then _has_ no soulmate. That has to be it - he’s loved, he’s respected, he’s feared. Who wouldn’t want him?

And then one day they find a crying child with a red striped shirt and Langemann is the one who brings him in, terrified, looking shaken and afraid.

Sabeltann doesn’t ask what about a mere baby has gotten him so riled up, only rolls his eyes and lets him keep the little runt.

The first time Sabeltann gives him a proper look-over, the child - Pinky, Langemann says he’s called, and Sabeltann grimaces - coos at him, reaching up with grabby hands and clapping Sabeltann’s cheeks.

Sabeltann can _feel_ it, the babe’s fingers digging into the feathers on his skin, and he stumbles back, furious.

You don’t _touch_ another’s soulmarks. It isn’t done.

Langemann yanks the brat away, a string of apologies falling from his mouth, and Sabeltann snarls at them both to get away.

He doesn’t see Pinky in many years afterwards, and when he does, the resentment still clings to him like oil. Even when Pinky grows into a brave boy and a strong teenager and a powerful young man, Sabeltann hates his guts. He feels teased, in a way - like Pinky owes him something, or like there should be something _more._ He lets it pester and morph into something ugly and dark, constantly asking more of him, never letting him rest.

He doesn’t know why. On good days, he blames it on the fingers digging into his skin.

On bad days, he blames it on himself.

And then, one day, they’re fighting a sea creature dripping with venom, and even though they are careful, they can never be careful enough. Benjamin trips into Pinky and shoves him into a toxic spray - and Sabeltann’s heart catches in his throat, like it always does when any of his crew (when Pinky, when _Pinky_ ) is in danger -

Pinky wrenches himself away and rips off his shirt, untangles it from his hair, and there are

_wings_

on his chest.

Wings painted black and blue and golden light and feathery and cradling the space where a heart would be and Sabeltann has yearned Sabeltann has

Sabeltann drops his sabre.

Pinky stands there looking like a God, sunkissed and glowing in battle lust and anger - framed by the sun he shines out like a beacon, hair like a halo, and shit, _fuck, **that’s why.**_

Sabeltann raises his gun and shoots the creature without looking, fuelled by some heavenly concoction of hormones and wonder, and every eye is on him, _he doesn’t care_ , he stalks across the deck and grabs Pinky’s shoulder -

Pinky looks up at him, confused, then down at himself, and his eyes widen, he opens his mouth -

Sabeltann grabs a fistful of his hair and kisses him angrily, hungrily, like a dying man gasping for breath.

Pinky curses against his lips - a sailor’s mouth, as he very well should have - and leans into him, and his hands come up to dig slender fingers into his skin, and Sabeltann feels it, now, too, the slither of electricity that comes from heavenly flesh against black ink.

He bends him nearly in half, presses a palm against his chest, and he feels it there, too, the beauty of being human resting just beneath the skin, _his_ wings over _Pinky’s_ heart.

Later, he’s going to murder Langemann and Pinky both for keeping it from him.

Right now, he enjoys the snog of his life.


End file.
